Inevitable
by ashestoashesanddusttodust
Summary: Tim hadn't given much thought to Damian's short time spent in the future. He really should have though. Damian x Tim


**Inevitable**

**A Word**: Tumblr prompt. Damian finds out he's dating Tim in the future and decides he might as well go for it now. This is just me messing around with how confused Tim would be because Damian wouldn't show any of the intense emotional shit he went through. He'd just be all, BAM! Go on a date with me, Drake.

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Robin goes missing shortly after midnight. It's not until nearly two that Oracle calls in an alert with everyone though. Batman has been tracking his movements since one and Nightwing snaps over the line at a flip line from Batgirl. There's more silence than words as people report negative on contact with Robin after midnight.

Red Robin is on the docks for the night and is the last person to have seen him. Tim's already given his report of it. A brief scuffle with some smugglers before the kid had wandered off to track something down. Leaving with an aggravating smirk as he pointed out that he was now an inch taller than Tim. A sad fact that Tim's been dreading Damian will notice for the past month. The annoying comment was only the start. Tim had felt it in his bones as he sent the demon spawn off with a well aimed kick.

He's tracking Damian's path. Following the coordinates that Oracle had relayed to him from the docks while Batman and Nightwing start at where Damian's tracker disappeared. Tim notes areas that are too quiet and pauses to check the police blotter. Noting out loud to whoever's listening -and it's all of them, even if some don't reply- the crimes Robin had stopped. What type and how many needed hospitalization. Fewer than usual, which could be a hint of something being wrong or the simple fact that Damian wasn't feeling all that annoyed/angry/violent.

Tim's reading a brief blurb about a would-be rapist who's in danger of permanently loosing a testicle when Oracle cuts in, "I have a lock on his position. N, B you're right on top of him."

Minutes drag by and Tim pauses on the roof of a business. Stretching idly and waiting tensely. Batman eventually calls it out. Confirms Robin has been found and he's unharmed. Magic was involved but there's no lingering effect.

The release of tension is almost audible over the line, even when it's silent. Tim eases out of his stretch and takes off. Red Robin has some leads to follow before the night is over, and it'll be a while before any of them get a full report of what happened with Robin.

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The report comes through late the next day, and Tim scans it between bites of the reheated noodles he'd been too lazy to dress up. It's the basic time travel and/or alternate universe situation. Damian traveled a few years into the future and then came right back to where he belongs with no significant injury or trauma. The details are sketchy, but Tim can read them well enough.

Tim was Batman. A fact that makes him squirm uncomfortably, but there's no indication he was the same dark man that Tim had met. It'd probably irked Damian to no end to see Tim in the cowl, but the report sounds positive enough to ease something in Tim's chest. The fault seems to lie with the future Damian pissing off some magic user that will apparently start making trouble in Gotham in the next few years.

He notes the name and description before closing out of the report and pulling up one of the files for a case he's working. The matter of the night before already slipping out of his mind.

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"Robin," Red Robin intones as he lands on the sheltered roof of a building he's taken to favoring for breaks. A shadow shifts and Damian unfolds himself from his crouch to stand up to his full height. Already a confirmed inch taller than Tim at 16, the rate at which Bruce had been modifying uniforms for him promised he'd gain much more than that inch quicker than Tim would like. "Did you need something?"

"Yes," Robin states. Regal and solemn in a way that get's Tim's full attention, because Damian really does need something if he's not opening with an insult. "I require your presences tomorrow at Adagio at seven."

The Adagio. Tim frowns as he tries to remember if any of the big movers in the city favored the kind of classy dining experience the restaurant offered. It used to be popular with the mob families, but most of the people who frequented the place are either dead or still behind bars. No promising rumors come to mind as Tim cautiously agrees, "Sure, are we eating? Do I need to bring any gear?"

"Of course we're eating," Damian gives Tim a scathing look, barely holding back on a comment about Tim's intelligence by the looks of his clenched jaw. Tim starts to feel a little worried at the continued absence of insults. "That's what restaurants are for, and you do not need to bring anything unless you plan to leave for patrol directly after."

"Ok," Tim draws the word out as he looks Damian over closely. Noting the stiff way he's standing and the stubborn jut of his jaw. His arms are crossed over his chest, not quite hiding the way his fists are clenched tight. The whole image is one of reluctance and restrained anger, but something in Damian's face tells Tim it's not that simple. Some tilt or line that tells him his assessment isn't right at all. "What are we doing then?"

"We are _eating_," Damian says with a snort as he turns away and stalks to the roofs edge grapple coming out. He doesn't look back and Tim feels that is a very deliberate choice on Damian's part. "Honestly, what else would we do? I know your relationship with Brown was a defining point in your life, Timothy, but I do not consider joint patrols an acceptable substitute for a date."

Damian's gone in a flash. Swinging off the roof in a smooth and graceful arc that spins him just enough to the right for Tim to catch the hint of a red flush over his face. Tim spends an embarrassing amount of time gaping in the direction Robin had taken off to. "_Date_?"

Oracle chooses that moment to open a line -or maybe she'd opened it much earlier- and laughs at him.

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End file.
